Live and Let Di

The Symptoms You Don't Talk About

Also posted in Mom2Mom on the Raleigh News & Observer's web site.

Pre-post-script...well after this was written, I went to the doctor and learned that I have either e.coli or salmonella.

The older you get the more constant and disgusting your various symptoms get. I have been battling a stomach flu for the past four days. No, I'm not going to regale you with the yucky physical symptoms of my ailment. But I think it's only fair to open up and share the really embarrassing aspects that affect ailing Moms.

The first thing was kind of cute. My son asked me what was wrong. Washing away my aura of invincibility, I winced and said, "My tummy is upset." My son said, "Maybe you should get it a balloon!" Of course! How brilliant....of course if someone/thing is upset...give it a balloon!!! I smiled a pale, wan smile.

The next day I felt worse. I was reclining on the couch with a comfy blankie when my son said, "Mom, what's for dinner?" I considered all of my alternatives and they all seemed to involve shedding my comfy blankie and rising from the equally comfy couch. So I said, "Here's the deal. I'll get up and make you mac & cheese...not homemade, from the blue box...OR I'll give you $20 if you fix yourself a bowl of cereal." Yes, I bribed my son in order to remain reclined in comfy blankie comfort.

The following day I felt even worse. It wasn't just about laying on the couch...it was every word, sound, telephone ring and movement grating on my every nerve. It was raining and my son and his friend were playing in the garage. Now, keep in mind that a few years back, these same two boys were skateboarding in the garage because it was raining and the child who wasn't mine (with whose parents I routinely exchange copies of our medical insurance cards) fell and broke his arm. Laying on the couch, I hear an ear-piercing scream. Somehow I find the energy within me to spring from the couch and run to the garage. I found the two boys laughing uproariously about someone wiping out and landing on his butt. I yelled, "I don't want to hear screaming like that unless someone has broken a bone!" Yes, those words crossed my lips.

Whatever semblance of good-Mom-ism you can normally muster up on a good day, slinks away little by little when you are sick. Moms don't get sick days. And in my case, I inevitably need one when my husband is on a business trip. I can't really remember ever getting sick with the rest of the family home and healthy. Thank goodness for my friends. One is not really a doctor, but he plays one on TV. And he helped me decide whether or not to go to the ER. His wife was there for comfort and encouragement. Another friend went out and got me the requisite ginger ale and saltines.

I'll feel better soon. And I'll be a better Mom too!

Di

The Olympics - The Drinking Game

Somehow, when I was playing quarters at the Tick Tock at St. Lawrence or playing beer pong at Sigma Chi, I never really visualized myself caught up in a drinking game when I was in my 40s. Friday night proved me wrong.

As we gathered around the bar at the Cantina (for new readers, the Cantina is a bar in my friend Kim's garage) watching the Olympic Opening Ceremonies, a drinking game (an event WE could actually participate in) seemed appropriate.

As the parade of nations passed by, someone (I think it was Marcy):

came up with the idea of everyone trying to pronounce each flag-holder's name. If you couldn't pronounce it, you had to drink. Since I am, by necessity, a moderate drinker (with my depression and associated meds, drinking to excess is not a good idea) and since I am the resident language expert, I was the designated judge.

I am the judge and my decisions are final. Aren't my earrings cool? They are made from recycled Coke bottle tops.

The African nations helped Sharis make a huge dent in this wine bottle:

Monte is Fuquay Varina born and bred and those Slovakian countries just about did him in:

Stef and Marcy, the Irish girls, think they are SO cool with getting all those Irish names!

John laughs at Chereen's attempt at pronouncing the Congo's flag-bearer.

And Kim assures us that when her daughter makes the Olympic Gymnastic Team, no one will have a problem pronouncing her name...Montana Wrigley...so simple...a state and a gum!

Behind the drinking and hilarity was tremendous respect for the beautiful ceremonies, pride in our athletes and a little disdain for President Bush's apparent boredom or disdain for the festivities. He was like a 5th grader who can't sit still at the school assembly. Laura looked lovely and respectful throughout.

Did anyone notice that two of the three events he attended the following day were events where the least clothing was worn? Beach Volleyball and Swimming.

Di

 

 

Our House...is a very, very, very fine house...

...and we might actually live in it sometime soon!!!!

This is Rory sitting on the kitchen counter. I picked out the granite myself and I am VERY happy with it.

Here is the guy building the stone fireplace. I thought they used some kind of stone facade thing, but they sit there and actually cut stones and put them together!

Rory and Hurley in the kitchen. Do you like my funky pendant lights?

Thank you to all the people who inspired me by asking to see more pictures of the house.

Di

A Little Privacy, A Lot of Compassion

Thanks to Shirley for my inspiration!

John Edwards screwed up. Like many men in the political realm, the entertainment world and our own neighborhoods, he succumbed to the lure of the excitement of an affair. I personally know several marriages that have weathered the storm of infidelity and survived and thrived despite the temporary setback. What was different about these marriages was that they worked through their pain without reporters camped in their front yards. They got to choose if and when to tell anyone about their difficulties. And they got to work through the pain, suffering and healing on their own time table.

When I was newly married, I had a friend whose 25+ year marriage I absolutely idolized. When I was wrestling with some marital discord or other, my friend told me that early in their marriage, her husband had an affair, told her about it and they moved on. I think that happens more often than the dramatic pronouncement to "pack your bags and get the hell out."

I was fortunate to meet Elizabeth Edwards last year at Quail Ridge Books when she was promoting her book Saving Graces. You can read about my brief encounter with the beautiful, sincere, down-to-earth Mrs. Edwards here.

Elizabeth Edwards connecting with my friend Shirley while signing her book.

What most impressed me was:

"When I saw Elizabeth take the podium at Quail Ridge Books last week, I saw not a potential First Lady or the consummate political wife, but a woman like the rest of us who laughs at her own imperfections, speaks candidly and connects on a personal level with every person with whom she comes in contact."

 

I can picture Elizabeth Edwards sitting around with my friends having a glass of wine on an "accidental Tuesday." (I'm not sure I can see her grabbing the microphone to harmonize on Landslide, but I wouldn't put it past her.)

Doctored picture...but sure looks like she would fit right in!

I'm quite sure that when John Edwards confessed his affair she was, as he put it, "furious." Who wouldn't be? But they have dealt with it as a couple and as a family.

In my opinion, an opinion I'm almost sure Elizabeth shares, John's marital indiscretion does not sully his passion for our country or his ability to lead. His male-pattern weakness in the face of an exciting woman who probably worshiped the ground he walked on does not diminish the respect that I gained for him after reading his book, Four Trials.

I personally would like to see John Edwards address the Democratic National Convention. I would like to see the Democrats connect with the nation on a personal level. Something along the lines of, "No...we are no more perfect than you. So, we can better understand you, your daily toils, your personal glories and challenges. Let's join together as a TRUE democracy where those you elect truly reflect the populace. Let's join our flawed selves and raise the best parts of each one of us to form a more perfect union...21st century style."

And Elizabeth, if you want to escape those annoying reporters on your lawn, you come on over to the Cantina any Tuesday or Friday. We'll supply the wine, beer, music and microphones.

Di

 

Uninspired

I am feeling uninspired lately. I guess it's part of what The Beast steals from me. It could also be from being in the throes of the final details on our house and the continually receding move-in date.

I can't find it within myself to blog just for the sake of blogging.

If you feel that you can inspire me, please feel free to do so! Otherwise, I might be on temporary vacation.

Di

Editor Needed - DESPERATELY!!!

Karen from verbatim inspired me to peruse craigslist for writing/editing jobs when what I REALLY need to peruse craigslist for is a new desk.

Although I am not in the market for any new jobs, this one caught my eye...

EDITOR NEEDED FOR TRAINING MANUALS

XYZ  Ministries, Inc. is in need of an editor.

We write and published our own training manuals and is in need of an editor.

We are looking for an individual with:

Execellent Writing Skills
Excellent Grammer/English Skills
Excellent Computer Skills

Now...take a moment and reread the third line...they desperately need someone soon!

Di

Singular Sugarland

Entertainment Weekly is one of my guilty pleasures. Good journalism joins pop culture. I love it!

However, I must get your opinion on something. Recently EW did a story called The Sugarland Express, about the country duo Sugarland. "Baby Girl," their beautiful song of a young woman's love for her parents and desire to make them proud, is a song that can make you cry as you are singing along. Here's a sentence from the article:

"...Sugarland have grown into one of the country's most successful and beloved acts."

Does that sound like nails on a chalkboard to anyone but me? While I have no dispute with a subsequent sentence that reads, "They've scored eight country top 10 hits..." because the "they", I feel, refers to the two members of the group, I can't understand the use of the plural verb with the singular band name.

Discuss.

Di

Texting Goes Political

Is this the younger generation's version of "Make Love, Not War?"

Modeling by my daughter, Haley...who is doing more than her share on the "sending texts" front!

Di

Eggs, Fruit and Compassion

I was overwhelmed yesterday by the compassionate, loving comments and e-mails I received in response to my report from the abyss.

I am feeling much better, thanks to doing some healthy things for myself, forbidding myself to wallow in guilt and several episodes of deep breathing. This morning's healthy breakfast was photo-worthy...mostly because I love the food pictures taken in the natural light from my (and when I say "my," I mean "my landlord's" although it feels like mine since our house never seems to be finished!) kitchen window:

I called my resident doc at UNC and found out that she has rotated out of there and that there is a 4-week wait for an appointment. So I have to get on BCBS.com and find a local provider. I've resigned myself to the fact that beggars can't be choosers, so I have to accept that this will probably NOT be someone with whom I feel totally comfortable and who "gets" me like my beloved Dr. Doran in Florida did. I need to look at this person like a drug dealer. I don't have to like him/her, but I do have to go see him/her occasionally to feed my habit.

I had left a message with the secretary for the ECT department at UNC and surprise of the not-so-surprising, Dr. Dawkins, the head of the department, called my husband to see what was going on with me. She was concerned that I hadn't been in. She wanted to dig a little deeper with him as to my situation so she could determine if perhaps I would need a course of 3 or more treatments instead of just one. That is so like her. She is brilliant and amazing and compassionate. The secretary is supposed to call me to set it up so I can get squeezed in this Friday.

So, I am feeling like there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that I'm not terribly far away from it. And it's not that light they tell you to go toward at "the end." That's a good thing.

Di

Good For Me

I'm taking this bull by the horns. I'm not letting the abyss suck me in. So today I vowed to do good, healthy things for myself.

For breakfast, I fixed some scrambled eggs topped with the amazing guacamole my husband made last night:

Then I went on a one-hour walk with my friend Pilar. There's nothing like a little cardio in 100 degree heat...laughing and talking all the way...to get your head back on straight.

And for lunch? How about this amazing array? The fruit salad that my husband made (are you seeing a food preparation theme here) with some yummy Formaggio mozzarella from Costco...also purchased by my husband on one of his Costco runs.

I didn't beat myself up for eschewing the apples (sorry honey, they just don't meld with the fruit salad) and picking out the strawberries to eat first (they are so yummy!)

I took a guilt-free nap. Played gin with my son. And went to Pilar's house for some chicken chili (the leftover guacamole was my contribution). Now I am home in bed and feeling like the abyss has been held off for the time being.

Di